"I've got rising six hundred dollars." He was carrying his little hoard
in his pocket, for a man operating from the hamlet of Maquoit must needs
be his own banker.
"I've got rising six hundred in my own pocket," said the skipper. "That
fat man may have orders to take the first offer that's made, but we've
got to make him one that's big enough so that he won't kick us overboard
and then go hunt up a buyer on the main."
The two Hue and Cry fishermen who had ferried the young man were nesting
their dory on top of other dories, and just forward of the house, and
were within hearing. Neither captain noted with what interest these men
were listening, exchanging glances with the man at the wheel.
"And after we waggle our wad under his nose--and less than a thousand
will be an insult, so I figger--what have we got left to operate with?
It won't do us any good to sail round that steamer for the rest of the
winter and admire her. What was you thinking, Mayo, of trying to work
him for a snap bargain, now that he's here on the spot and anxious to
sell, and then grabbing off a little quick profit by peddling her to
somebody else?"
"No, sir!" cried the young man, with decision. "I've got my own good
reasons for wanting to make this job the whole hog or not a bristle! I
won't go into it on any other plan."
"Well, we'll be into something, all right, after we invest our
money--the whole lump. We'll most likely be in a scrape, not a dollar
left to hire men or buy wrecking outfit."
The two men finished lashing the dories and went forward.
"It's a wild scheme, and I'm a fool to be thinking about it, Captain
Candage. But wild schemes appeal to me just now. I can make some more
money by working hard and saving it, a few dollars at a time, but I
never expect to see another chance like this. Oh yes, I see that bank in
the south!" His eyes followed the skipper's gloomy stare. "By to-morrow
at this time she may be forty fathoms under. But here's the way I feel."
He pulled out his wallet and slapped it down on the roof of the house.
"All on the turn of one card! And there comes the blow that will turn
it!" He pointed south into the slaty clouds.
Captain Candage paused in his patrol of the quarterdeck and gazed down
on the wallet. Then he began to tug at his own. "I'm no dead one, even
if my hair is gray," he grumbled.